


The Rhythm of the Night

by addormio



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is an anxious mess, F/M, Fluff, Insomnia, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pregnant Eliza, There's a war on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 03:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7491984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addormio/pseuds/addormio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can't sleep,” Alexander breathed against Eliza’s neck, startling her out of her own slumber. </p>
<p>She turned to face him, Alexander never releasing her from his arms. Eliza pulled him closer to her and snuggled into his chest. “You can.”</p>
<p>“Elizaaaaa,” he whined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rhythm of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "Of the Night" by Bastille.

“I can't sleep,” Alexander breathed against Eliza’s neck, startling her out of her own slumber. 

She turned to face him, Alexander never releasing her from his arms. Eliza pulled him closer to her and snuggled into his chest. “You can.”

“Elizaaaaa,” he whined. His hand started tracing patterns onto her bare back. 

“Hush. You'll wake the baby.” He wouldn't. They both knew this, as the baby wouldn't be born for another four months. Alexander’s voice dropped to a whisper nonetheless. 

“Eliza, what if we don't win?” Alexander's previously calming hands turned into distractingly drumming fingers. Eliza could feel his anxiety where their skin touched. 

“I don't see another option at this stage.” 

Alexander chuckled, once again struck by how quickly and inexplicably incredible his life had become. His wife was as smart as she was beautiful. There was no turning back, no returning to life as British citizens. Not after this war. “Exactly.”

“There’ll be no more victories for our side if you do not sleep.” Eliza squeezed her arms around him in some variation of a hug. 

“Nothing in this life is guaranteed, Eliza. It must be taken, fought for. Eyes open or closed, I will have no sway in the tide of this war without a command.” 

Eliza could hear the pout on his face. She sympathized with him, she really did, but she was also a pregnant woman who'd been woken up in the middle of a much-needed night of sleep to hear a repeat of an argument he could (and did, frequently) make when the sun was in the sky. She was sleeping for two now (three, if you count Alexander), and it cut her fuse a bit shorter than it would be normally.

“I know, my dear. But I really must get some rest. The baby-”

“The baby!” Alexander covered his face with the hand that had been stroking Eliza’s back. “I'm going to become a father, on top of everything else. If I'm anything like my father-” 

“You’re not. The very fact that you fret over the possibility shows how deeply you care for our child.” 

Alexander’s hand once again found its way to Eliza’s back. “I sometimes find myself unable to breathe for how much I love him. And you.” His arm tightened its grip on her, as if she and the baby were merely illusions, subject to disappear at any moment. “I never thought that I would be so lucky.”

Eliza’s heart warmed at this soft-spoken admission. “Rest, my love. The baby and I both will still be here in the morning.” She pressed a soft kiss against his chest.

Alexander’s grip did not loosen, but he said nothing further, so Eliza counted it a victory. Slowly, Alexander’s body relaxed against her, finally giving way to sleep. Soft snoring lulled Eliza back under, helpless to resist drifting off in this rare moment of serenity amidst the chaos.


End file.
